My girlfriend Catherine is someone who can be either supremely confident or shakily insecure, depending on the situation and with whom she's interacting. For instance, she's always been intimidated by her domineering mother. With me, though, Cat's generally surer of herself, particularly when it comes to sexual matters.

Cat and I are both in our early 30s. She stands 5'7, one inch shorter than me. She has thick, dark hair that she wears halfway down her back. Her big brown eyes are deep-set and look especially pretty when she enhances them with silvery eye shadow. Her skin tone is pale and prone to freckling in the summer. She's neither thin nor fat. Her boobs aren't especially large or small and are nicely high-set and well-rounded. My favorite physical attribute of hers is her hands. I've had a thing about women's hands since an attractive elementary school teacher of mine used to come around and tickle us kids to snap us out of the after-lunch sleepy lull. Cat's fingers are long and slender. She grows her nails out and takes good care of them, and paints them in unusual, arresting colors like metallic silver and plum purple. I've often told her she could get work as a hand model if she ever loses her tech job.

Cat is an intuitive woman who figured out my sexual soft spots early into our relationship. And she plays on them. Past girlfriends I've had got weirded out if I paid too much attention to a particular aspect of their anatomy. But Cat indulges me. Knowing how I feel about her hands, she does things like teasingly tickles my balls and scratches my belly during foreplay. And, once we're in the intercourse phase, she often puts her fingers into my mouth. Also, she's clocked that in erotic situations I have a tendency towards submissiveness. This brings out her self-assuredness in full. When she knows I'm close to orgasm, she'll reach down and take a hold of my dick with her perfect fingers, then she'll put her mouth against my ear and throatily say things like, "You know what I want. I always get what I want. Give it to me, now."

So, last weekend was Halloween. Cat and I were invited to a costume party at a neighbor's apartment in our building. We're both introverts who tend to be homebodies, but on a whim, we opted to attend the bash. And then decided that as long as we were going, we'd go all out. We dressed as Catwoman and Batman, thinking of the 1960s TV show, which we both love. She was Julie Newmar to my Adam West.

Cat looked gloriously sexy as Catwoman. It made me both jealous and turned on when I saw how other guys (and some women) eyed her at the party. I couldn't wait to get her home to our unit and get inside her. But once we were there, and after some passionate kissing in our living room, Cat stopped me when I took hold of her hand (paw) and tried to lead her to our bedroom.

"Uh-uh. Catwoman and Batman are adversaries. She would never let a lowly crime fighter take her to bed."

"That's where you're wrong," I said, trying and failing again to lead Cat bed-ward. "There's so much sexual tension between them. You just know they'd go at it like wild animals if they ever let down their guards with each other."

I went in for another kissing session. As our tongues swirled around each other's, Cat moaned in a way that she knows makes me nuts. But then she abruptly pulled her mouth away from mine and stepped back by a few feet.

"Catwoman knows she can control men. It bores her. The only way she might be induced into giving herself to Batman is if he proved he could conquer her, physically."

Cat and I had never engaged in full-on role-play. Is that where she was leading us?

"You mean beat her in a fight?"

"A wrestling match. He'd have to prove he could pin her to make her feel like she'd want to have more of his physique."

My heart was starting to race. I know I had a bulge in my Bat tights. I was on my high school's wrestling team and didn't think I'd have any great difficulty subduing my girlfriend in a match. But, staying in the game, I asked her, "And what if Catwoman wins the bout?"

"Then she'll be further convinced of something she already thinks she knows: she can overpower Batman."

We joined three of Cat's yoga mats together across our living room floor, to create a makeshift wrestling surface. We moved furniture out of the way. We each dropped down to our knees and faced each other.  All I really wanted was to fuck this crazy hot Julie Newmar version of my girlfriend. But Cat had made it clear that this play-acting was a requisite precursor to any sex we might have.

I was quickly able to grab both of her wrists and force her down on her back. It looked like this would be a simple win. Cat wrapped her legs under my cape and around my abdomen (minus the utility belt, which we agreed I needed to remove before our bout) and locked them together to form a body scissors hold over my middle with her lower limbs in the form-fitting PVC jumpsuit. I didn't take her move seriously and just continued to secure her arms, thinking once I had them all the way down, I'd easily free myself from her scissor hold and use my knees to fully pin her for the three-count.

But something unexpected happened when I tried to break free of her. I knew Cat's legs were strong. She's a runner who participates in marathons, and she does lower body workout reps at the gym. But I didn't realize just how much of an immovable steel trap her legs could be when they had me in a scissor-lock. I used all the Bat strength I had to try and force her legs apart and off of my middle section so I could bring my knees up and pin her down. But I couldn't manage it.

"You're in a cat trap," she said to me, using the dominant vocal inflection she usually does when I'm about to explode inside her. "You can't get out. Admit it."

I felt equally exhilarated and frustrated. I wasn't going to give in. I'd been all but panting for my girlfriend ever since I'd seen her emerge from our bathroom in her erotic costume before the party. I had to have her, and I needed to win this wrestling match to get there.

I let myself relax for a few. Then I took a deep breath, before reaching back again and using every ounce of energy I could muster to try and pry Catwoman's legs from around my middle. And it worked! I forced her limbs apart and then pushed them upwards, meaning to move them over my back and around my side.

I looked down at Cat and noticed she was smiling assuredly. If I was about to win the match, she didn't seem to know it. And then I found out why she was still so confident. When I had her legs high up and went to push them off me, she got them back together and around my neck. She also pulled one of my arms through, so that it was in between her leg and my Batman cowl-covered head. Once she had me locked into this new scissor hold, she forced me over to my side and started twisting the wrist of the hand she had trapped, while firmly gripping my head, neck, and arm with her surprisingly powerful legs.

I was helpless. I'd used all the gas I had left to get out of her body scissors hold. I could've tried utilizing my free arm to make an effort to release myself from her vice grip in some way. But I knew it was useless. I was whipped. I felt embarrassed and turned my head away from Cat's. But she used her free hand to pull me firmly by the chin so that we were locked in an eye-to-eye stare that our respective masks couldn't obscure.

"Poor Batman. He's been unmasked. He's just a weak little boy who's not strong enough to challenge Catwoman. Isn't that so? Hmm?"

I sighed, said, "Ok, you can let go now."

"I'm going to make you say it first." She twisted my wrist again and squeezed on my neck with her legs as she forced me to keep looking into her taunting eyes. "Say uncle. No, auntie. That's more like it. Say I'm all tied up by you, Auntie. You beat me, Auntie. You're stronger than me, Auntie. Say it, now."

I said it.

Brian Greene.